It was like a scene from a movie.
We looked in the window.
We looked at each other.
And without missing a beat, we both burst out laughing.
Well I imagine she had to go to the bathroom really quickly and the jeans were just too tight.
Right, she replied, Nothing to do but cut around her boots.
It was a day off, with the rare sun beaming upon Paris and the perfect day for a much needed catch up while meandering through the quaint winding streets around Sèvres-Babylone.
What we didn't count on was that it would end up being the day we would christen 'All Kinds of Wrong.' Because, honestly, it was. Like those jean boots.
There were also the stuffed animal chairs that no person would ever feel comfortable sitting on. Not only because sitting on those swans just hurts to think about but also because some of those adorable bears are clearly suffocating.
Not only were animals glued to chairs, but they were also driving cars. We both agreed that it had to be a teeny tiny body under that giant head to be able to shift gears correctly.
And some animals were standing guard in some sort of back from the afterlife-gaze. There was just something so creepy about these cats. And to sell clothes? The mind reels.
Things got even more wrong as we approached a kitty-corner where we got trapped in some sort of Glam Jail.
Could it get more wrong? Oh yes, it could. Because men may have been nurtured by beauty oils, but men did not learn grammar.
Thinking this was as good (or bad) as it gets, we walked on where it got even worse.
It is named French Object.
Wouldn't it be perfect for the office?
Or spacious living room?
We're into art as much as the next person, but this is just wrong.
All. kinds. of. wrong.